The Mage Eater
by Firebird'sDaughter
Summary: WARNING: There are references to events in previous books! A new, almost unstoppable sickness strikes Winding Circle Temple. Can the four mages stop it? And, when Rosethorn's rival, and Briar's least favorite dedicate, catches it, do they want to?
1. Niko's Late

No one was sure how, or where it started. The first to come down with it was a young healer from the far south. She died a few days after, but the disease had already spread to others.

They never knew her name, or where she came from, but she accidentally started an epidemic.

They called it the Mage Eater, for only mages came down with it, and it devoured them from the inside out, feeding on their magic. It spread with an alarming rate, taking down cities at a time. There was no way to stop it, for it killed all healers who pursued it. Only when it seemed like every healer in the country was drained or dead, did it take the Great Mages. Was it accident?

Or murder?

"Niko's late." Commented Tris softly. "He's never late." Sandry went over and put an arm around her friend's shoulder's.

"He'll be here." She promised the redhead. About an hour later, there was a knock at the door. They all jumped up, and raced to get it. Briar won.

"Where have you-" He stopped when he saw that the figure in the doorway wasn't Tris's teacher at all, but a woman around the same hight. Silver streaks in her hair was the only indication of age on her, and she was sopping wet. Despite the heavy rain, it seemed she had neglected to put on an oilskin.

"Tosa Smokefingers, I never!" Cried Sandry's teacher, Lark, coming over. "Do come in, you're soaked to the bone." Tosa ducked inside the cottage, her dark brown hair sticking to her solemn face. Something was wrong. The children had only met Nikarlen Goldeye's sister a few brief times, but they knew the worry lines that creased her forehead did not belong there. Lark guided the larger woman to the fire and sat her down.

"I can't stay long." Tosa's deep voice was cracked. "I have to ride out to Summersea, but I knew I should come here first." She nodded her thanks as Daja brought her a cup of tea. "I'm sorry for ruining your carpet, but I forgot to put on a rain coat, I was in a rush to get it over with."

"What's wrong?" Asked a curt voice. Rosethorn had come out of her workroom.

"I'm here to tell you why Niko's so late, and why he won't be able to come for awhile." The huge mage shivered, casting her eyes down. It was Sandry who realized what she was going to say before she said it.

"N-no...!" The young thread mage cried, dropping her dust cloth. "It couldn't..." Tosa nodded sadly.

"I'm afraid it is. Niko came down with the Mage Eater last night."

"No! _NO_!" There was the sound of a large book striking the ground as Tris leapt up. "No!" She shouted again, her voice rising. Lark sat stone still, face pale.

"You're sure."

"Niko tested himself." Tosa rose suddenly. "I am sorry to be the bearer of such ill news." She whispered, closing her eyes. Then she swept out the door, leaving a trail of water droplets in her wake. The rain began to pour down harder than ever, and lightning flashed dangerously close to the cottage.

"Tris! Please!" Sandry stumbled over to her hysterical friend, wrapping her arms around her. "Niko will be fine. I'm certain of it, please calm down!" Finally, it took all three of the other children to calm Tris down enough that the storm was following a natural pattern. Rosethorn, who hadn't moved since Tosa had left turned back to her workroom.

"I should go talk to Crane-"

"But you won't be needing to go anywhere." Drawled a voice from the door, one that sent Little Bear, the dog, scurrying under a chair. Dedicate Crane stood there, running his long fingers through his short black hair, cut just to his earlobes. He was a tall man, with a black strip accenting the hem of his yellow habit, marking that he served the air gods. His usually thin mouth was pressed even thinner. "And I believe we need to do a bit more than talk." There was an edge to his voice the Briar only remembered hearing during the Blue Pox epidemic. He didn't like the air dedicate at all, and he knew Crane didn't like him, but he had seen something behind the cold, arrogant front in his days working in the greenhouse, he was sure. Rosethorn nodded, and went into her workroom, green habit swishing, only to emerge again in a moment. Her and Crane sat at the table talked far into the night. Every now and then, one of them would blow top, and begin yelling, only to be hushed by Lark.

_This is going to be one hard Fall._ Briar commented mentally. All three girls agreed silently.

Working in the greenhouse was much the same as it had been during the Blue Pox. Crane was never happy with whatever anyone did, and there were people being ordered out right, left and center. But the real trouble came a couple weeks into the research. The newest was a young female novice from the earth temple. Her name was Hako, and she was pleasant enough, with steady hands. Briar liked her, despite the odd chain she wore around her neck. She was working with a scalpel to move the disease from tray to tray, when he brushed by her. Somehow, the girl stumbled, and the scalpel's blade flashed dangerously. Briar had never seen Crane move so fast. He was in between the two in an instant, and had caught Hako's wrist, his other arm pushing Briar out of harm's way. Hako's eyes widened. Clearly she could see something Briar couldn't. She dropped the small knife, pulled out of Crane's hold and ran. Two others chased after her. But Briar noticed that Rosethorn was watching Crane. He realized why when the tall dedicate shuddered beside him, and slumped against the table. When he did, Briar's eyes locked on something on the arm he had grabbed Hako with. A thin tear in the cloth of the man's robe revealed a small, shallow puncture in his arm, already dripping with a silvery goo.

"Crane." Rosethorn's voice cracked with emotion. She stumbled over to the other dedicate. "Crane." She put her arms around him. He made a movement that might have been an attempt to push her away, but it failed. Briar tilted his head to the side, which helped him to see magic better. There was magic, all right. It was seeping through Crane's arm to the rest of him, and moving quickly.

"Crane..." Rosethorn whimpered again. He seemed to just sag against her, his dark brown eyes going blurry. The two other novices came back, dragging Hako, who was struggling. Everyone looked at her.

"It was an accident, Hako. Why did you run?" It was Ospery, Crane's apprentice. "Why?" Hako didn't answer, instead, she began to fumble with the chain around her neck, pulling out the pendant, a small vial. Suddenly, Rosethorn shouted.

"Stop her!" But it was too late by the time anyone moved. The chain broke with a snap as Hako yanked at it, flinging it on the ground.

And then she slumped to the floor herself. Dead. "None of you touch that!" Called Rosethorn, holding Crane up. "Get a cloth and pick it up! Never mind her, she died the instant she took it off!" One of the novices nodded and ran off quickly to get a rag. Crane said something too quietly to hear, and Rosethorn turned back to him. "Isas?" She asked fearfully "Isi?" He didn't respond. Osprey came forward slowly.

"Is... Is he dead?"

"No... No, not..." No one wanted to finish that sentence. Rosethorn looked at Osprey, and beckoned her forward. "Help me out here." Osprey came over and took one of his arms.

"Where are we going to take-"

"Discipline." Rosethorn said without hesitation, her face serious. Osprey didn't argue. She knew there was no arguing with Rosethorn when she had that look on her face.

_Daja, Tris!_ Briar called silently. _Tell Lark Rosethorn's bringing Crane to Discipline!_

_Why? _Tris asked.

_She hates him._ Daja pointed out at the same time.

_I don't know!_ He snapped, jogging to catch up with Ospery and Rosethorn. _Just tell her!_


	2. Tosa Visits an Old Friend

In Rasfar, a city in northern Lairan, a cloaked figure banged harshly on the door. She was tall, taller then most at five feet ten inches. A withered old man with a tiny, puffy beard opened the door.

"I'm here to see Lord Iry Paintaker." Said a deep female voice.

"The Master isn't taking visitors right now." He tried to closed the thick ebony door, only to find a black booted foot in the way. The woman flung back her hood.

"You go up there and tell him Tosa Smokefingers is here to see him, and if he doesn't admit her right now, she will tell the world everything she knows about him from the time he was twenty-three." As the old man turned to race up the stairs, she called after him. "Including that thing with the chambermaid!" There was a long silence in the chilly morning air.

"Is this truly necessary, Lady Smokefingers?" Asked the tall, muscular man beside her. His dark skin, hair, and clothes made him almost in possible to see. He was almost a foot taller then she. "It's barely two."

"He'll be up, or I'll drag him out of bed." Growled the mage, shivering in a fresh breeze. "Gods blood, who knew it was so cold inland?" The man appeared at the door again.

"He will see you, Lady Smokefingers."

"Knew he would." Tosa mumbled. "Wait with the horses, Aki, this is mage stuff." Her friend nodded, and returned to their mounts. She climbed the black marble steps to the tiny room at the top. It was mostly open windows, and the floor might have been carpeted, but the papers that layered it showed no sign of cloth beneath.

"Tosa, my dear. You were far more charming the last time we saw each other." Drawled the man in the huge, mouse and mouth eaten chair. "Have you come just to poke fun at my disreputable early years." She folded her thin arms, glaring at her best.

"I have poked no fun from this whatsoever, Master Paintaker. As to the reason for my visit, if you do not know, I am very disappointed in your intelligence network." There was a moment of stiff silence.

"Okay, so I've disappointed you. Now sit down and tell me what it is!" She lifted a pile of books off a stool, stuck them on one of the completely unused shelves, and sat on it.

"It came up from the south. Beyond the Pebbled Sea, I'm certain." She took a sheaf of papers out of her cloak and put them on the table, tucking her gray streaked brown hair behind and ear. "They're calling it the Mage Eater, since only mage's are catching it. I _think_ it eats their magic and then their life force, but it's impossible to get near enough to tell. Normal people can carry it, at least, though it's impossible to walk past someone in the street who has it and not catch it." She shoved the papers toward him. "So far, anyone who's come down with it has died. It drains and kills any healers who try to pursue it." He reached over, but instead of grabbing the papers, he took her hand.

"You're shaking." She flinched back.

"Look at the papers Iry." She growled, black eyes dangerous. He nodded, lifting them.

"I see... So it eliminates those who it believes have the power to stop it, and preys on those who don't." He pulled out a pair of gold rimmed spectacles. "What are the symptoms?"

"There aren't any, to start out. You can have it for a whole day with out knowing it, giving it to others. Then you collapse. The body temperature drops to near fatal levels, and the internal organs fail."

"Which organs?" She groaned and slammed her fist on the table.

"**All** of them, gods curse it!" Taking deep breaths, she continued in a much calmer tone. "There's shakes, and some peoples eyes dilate, but..."

"But what?" He leaned forward, interested now. Her answer came through gritted teeth.

"But those who're struck so badly from the start are dead within forty eight hours. No exceptions." He tilted his head to the side, something in her voice catching him off guard.

"Tosa... How many at Winding Circle have this?" She stared out his eastward window.

"I just received word that another dedicate came down with it yesterday."

"How many, then, and who?"

"... Frostpine first, you remember him. Grose was next, and then two novices from the Water Temple caught it and died in the same hour. There's been a Fire Temple Initiate, and Dedicate Initiate Crane is the newest."

"Crane?"

"Isas."

"Isas fer Yorvan?"

"How many times must I repeat myself!" Iry Paintaker shook his head.

"Knew that boy from an egg. Mark you, he changed after that brush with Lightsbridge. The Bookkeeper credit you from getting yourself and your brother out of there. I'm just lucky _I_ escaped when I did."

"Bookkeeper Oti is a Trader god, and if my aged memory serves me, **you** are no Trader."

"Sure, sure. But those are all dedicates."

"... You guessed."

"I have only just figured it out. Why come to me? He's that bad?"

"All of it. You're the best healer on the coast, maybe even the world, Iry! If you can't chase down this disease, no one can!" The look on his face was darker then she had ever seen it before.

"Won't you be sorry if I can't." He whispered. "Won't you be sorry."


End file.
